


close, my darling, both your eyes

by avalonjoan



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blood, Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pre-The Raven Boys, Sharing a Bed, i listed it as gen but lets be real these boys love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25991776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonjoan/pseuds/avalonjoan
Summary: “He’s going to kill me.”Gansey and Ronan speed across town to retrieve Adam from a bloody snowbank.  Ronan is good in a crisis; Gansey needs a minute to breathe; Adam's okay.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 77





	close, my darling, both your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Frederic Prokosch, Nocturne
> 
> Close my darling both your eyes,  
> Let your arms lie still at last.  
> Calm the lake of falsehood lies  
> And the wind of lust has passed,  
> Waves across these hopeless sands  
> Fill my heart and end my day,  
> Underneath your moving hands  
> All my aching flows away.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Gansey shouted Adam’s name at his phone. Robert Parrish’s voice boomed in the background of the call. The line cut. Head spinning and hands trembling with adrenaline, Gansey looked at his black phone screen for a few seconds before running to pound on Ronan’s door.

“It’s Adam,” was all he said, and it was all that needed to be said. They left the apartment, neither bothering to lock the door behind them, Ronan without even grabbing his coat. They went right to Ronan’s car--now wasn’t the time to risk the Pig breaking down--and sped across town. Gansey took a page from Ronan’s book and prayed that the cops wouldn’t stop them on the way. He prayed that they would get to Adam in time.

They did. Ronan braked hard the second Gansey spotted Adam, the BMW fishtailing in the snow. Adam was on his hands and knees, trying to stand but too unsteady to actually do it. When Gansey tumbled out of the car and got closer, he saw dots of blood in the snowbank and looked up to see more dripping down the side of Adam’s face. “You’re okay,” he said, trying to be reassuring (to himself or to Adam, he wasn’t sure) as he and Ronan each slid an arm under Adam’s and lifted him to his feet. “We’ve got you.”

They helped him into the passenger seat, reclining it all the way back when Adam mumbled about just wanting to lie down. Gansey sat in the middle of the back seat, seatbelt unbuckled, twisting so that he could see Adam as close to head-on as possible. It seemed like there was blood coming from everywhere--his eyebrow, his lip, somewhere on his scalp, staining his hair crimson. Adam flinched when Gansey put a hand on his shoulder; Gansey noticed that the other was clutching his left forearm to his chest and pulled his hand away.

“Probably ten minutes to the hospital.” The drive in this weather should be more like fifteen or twenty minutes, but this was Ronan Lynch at the wheel.

Adam sat upright. “No,” he said firmly, “No hospital.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Gansey tried to urge him back down onto the seatback.

“I mean it. I just--I just want to lie down.” He closed his eyes. “I’m okay.”

Ronan caught Gansey’s eye in the rearview mirror, raising his eyebrows in question. Gansey looked down at Adam, then back to Ronan, and shrugged. “Fine. But you’re going in the morning.”

Lying back down, Adam nodded and made a quiet ‘hmm’ in affirmation. Ronan slowed down a hair; it took them about five minutes to arrive at Monmouth. With the luxury of time that they hadn’t had at the corner of Adam’s street, Gansey helped Adam out of the car and allowed him to walk to the front door, footsteps slow and careful, Gansey ready to catch him if need be. Once they were up the half-flight of stairs and in the apartment, Adam took a few steps before leaning against the brick wall and sliding down to sit on the floor. 

“You okay?” Ronan asked, and Adam nodded. “Alright. Be right back.”

As Ronan disappeared into the apartment, Gansey knelt beside Adam and tried to decide where to start: the bleeding, Adam’s wet clothes, his wrist. He picked the second option as he noticed Adam shaking. Tugging at the hem of Adam’s shirt, he said, “Let’s get you out of this, okay?” 

Wordlessly, Adam took his shirt off with the practiced order of someone who had undressed with an injury like this before: normal arm out first, then over the head, then slide the whole thing over the injured arm. He dropped the shirt on the floor beside him just as Ronan returned with a backpack and an empty Tupperware. Gansey eyed the backpack and Ronan simply stated, “First aid for your fucking cave trips,” and unzipped it, pulling out a number of Ziploc bags and looking at the labels before passing one to Gansey. He reached deep into the bag and pulled out a plastic bottle and dumped the contents into the Tupperware. 

“There’s gauze in the bag--use that and the saline to clean up his face. If something’s still bleeding, press on it until it stops.” Gansey nodded and Ronan went on, addressing Adam this time, “Now let me look at your wrist.” 

Gansey was trying to figure out where on Adam’s scalp the blood was coming from when he heard Ronan suck in a breath and let it out through pursed lips. “Adam,” the other said softly, “Are you sure you won’t let us take you to the hospital?” Adam shook his head and Gansey looked down to see his wrist, swollen and purple with bruising.

 _Is it broken?_ Gansey mouthed at Ronan, who pressed his lips in a line and nodded. Even though he wasn’t a medical professional, Gansey trusted that farmboy-turned-fighter Ronan knew what a broken wrist looked like. 

“I’m gonna wrap it, just for tonight.” Ronan rustled through the bag until he found an elastic bandage. “It’s going to hurt when I do it, but it’ll feel better once it’s not moving so much.”

Adam stared back at Ronan and weakly held his arm out. When the other started wrapping the bandage around his forearm, Adam let out a yelp before biting down on his lip. Startled, Gansey pulled away from where he was pressing on Adam’s head and dropped the gauze on the floor. He tried to pick it up, but dropped it again. He held his hands out in front of him. He was shaking. He was breathing too fast. He felt a little dizzy.

“Hey.” Ronan nudged him with his elbow. “Can you get me some ice? Or something cold to put on his arm. Whatever we have.”

It didn’t make sense that Ronan wouldn’t have one of those instant cold packs in his bag, but Gansey didn’t have it in him to protest. He walked to the kitchen, trying to block out the sound of Adam’s pained groaning. His knees shook and he felt a sudden wash of hot, then cold, followed by the sudden urge to vomit. Leaning over the sink, he waited while the feeling passed, sweat damp on his face, fingers gripping the edge of the countertop. After a minute--or was it ten? Gansey couldn’t tell--he hung his head, turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face, swished some around his mouth and spit it out. He held his breath, let it out slowly. 

“Gansey!” Ronan bellowed from the other room. “Did you fall in?”

Gansey looked up, rubbed his hands over his face, and went to the freezer to find something suitable. It was as sparse as two teenage boys’ kitchen could be expected, and the only thing that wasn’t in a box or tub of some sort was a jumbo bag of pizza rolls. He brought it back to the main room, grabbing a dish towel from the counter on his way out.

“Better?” Gansey nodded as it dawned on him why Ronan had sent him on his errand. He handed the bag of pizza rolls at Ronan, who rolled his eyes. “Seriously? These aren’t gonna refreeze well.” Gansey shrugged as Ronan wrapped the towel around the bag and placed it on Adam’s arm. 

Adam held the makeshift ice pack in place while the other two finished cleaning up his face. Once all that was left was a still-oozing cut above his eyebrow and a horrific bruise on his opposite cheek, Ronan scooped the bloody gauze into a pile and shoved it to the side. “Let’s get you changed into something dry and get you to bed.”

Ronan’s voice was so soft and gentle as he coaxed Adam through this whole night--Gansey couldn’t get over it. He’d never heard Ronan like this. It was like all his sharp edges were smoothed over so as not to hurt Adam. Gansey wanted to see this Ronan again, under better circumstances. He watched as Ronan helped Adam to his feet and started walking him toward Noah’s room. “Wait,” he called, “Bring him to my bed, it’s better.” 

Ronan changed course while Gansey went to find something for Adam to wear. Before Adam sat on the edge of the bed, Ronan tugged his pants and boxers down and had him step into the waiting pair of Gansey’s sweatpants. Adam put the sweatshirt on himself, still taking care to protect his arm, before lying down and allowing Ronan to pull the comforter over him. “Need anything else?” Ronan asked. 

Adam shook his head. “Thanks.” Ronan’s lips twitched into a flicker of a smile that only Gansey could see and he turned to go back to his room. Gansey didn’t follow. Instead, he sat on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, facing Adam. Ronan returned a moment later gripping a bottle of whiskey by the neck. He squatted on the floor and held the bottle out to Gansey, who shook his head. “I need to be able to drive if he changes his mind about going to the hospital.”

Stifling a snort, Ronan took a sip before setting the bottle on the floor beside himself. “Like that’ll happen.” He took another sip. “I think the pizza rolls were salvageable after all.”

“Maybe put some cold packs in your bag for next time.” He knew there would be a next time. There was always a next time. “Where did you learn all that first aid? Did you take a class, or—”

“I have been in more fights in the past year than you will in your entire life.”

Gansey would have laughed, if not for the fact that Adam had undoubtedly seen more violence than both of them. “Fair.”

He didn’t look away from Adam for the entire conversation. Adam with dried blood sticking his hair in clumps, cradling his arm against his chest, his delicate face distorted with bruising and laceration. Adam who never asked for help, who never stopped working, who did anything for his friends, even at his own expense. He deserved better. He needed better. Pressing the heel of one hand against both eyes, Gansey wiped away a few tears. He wouldn’t cry in front of Adam, even with the other sleeping. He wasn’t the one who needed comforting. 

“Hey.” Ronan put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, voice still soft, like he’d used with Adam. “Go wash your face.” He jerked his head toward the other side of the apartment; Gansey shook his head. “You’re covered in blood. You want him to wake up and see you like this?” Considering this for a moment, he followed Ronan to the bathroom and allowed the other to push him toward the sink. 

Sure enough, there were smears of blood along his brow from where he’d pushed his hair to the side and along his cheeks from here he’d brushed away tears. He washed his hands first, then rubbed water on his face and wiped at the blood until it was mostly gone. Ronan stood behind him, reflected in the mirror, pointing out spots Gansey missed. Once most of it was gone, Ronan took Gansey’s shoulder and spun him around, turning his face side to side and nodded. “Better.”

Gansey was about to turn to go back to his bed when Ronan pulled him into a hug. It was entirely unexpected--he couldn’t remember a time when he and Ronan had hugged, even after Niall’s death. Surprised, Gansey froze for a few seconds before burying his face against Ronan’s neck and digging his fingers in the other’s back, balling his shirt into his fists. Ronan brought a hand up to cradle the back of Gansey’s head, and it was just so tender, so needed, that he let out a sob and held Ronan even closer.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Ronan’s voice was a low rumble, even and firm. “Robert Parrish doesn’t get to call himself a father anymore.”

Ronan was robbed of a loving father. Adam shouldn’t have to live with a monster.

This was one fight Gansey wouldn’t keep Ronan from.

“Go sleep,” Ronan instructed, the malice suddenly gone from his voice, his previous words left to hang in the air. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

Gansey wouldn’t sleep--he knew that, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. He went back to his bed and lay down opposite Adam, careful not to jostle him. With considerably less care about movement, Ronan climbed over Gansey and wedged himself in between him and Adam. Squirming to find a comfortable position that didn’t force him halfway off the bed, Gansey settled on scooting toward the foot of the bed and looping his one arm around Ronan’s thighs, the other under the hollow of his knees. 

“Cute,” Ronan whispered with a little twist of sarcasm, undermining the bite of it by gently ruffling Gansey’s hair with his fingers.

“You brought this on yourself,” Gansey replied. “Promise you’ll wake me up?”

“Of course.” Massaging Gansey’s scalp with his fingertips for a second before pulling his hand away, he added, “Now shut up and at least pretend to sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a simple man; I consume media with sweet boys in it, I write the fanfic.


End file.
